


The Loss of Our Stars

by Safe_urself_kill_em_all



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Crying, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Grief/Mourning, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Loneliness, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Slow Dancing, Sort Of, and he gets it, just briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27910648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Safe_urself_kill_em_all/pseuds/Safe_urself_kill_em_all
Summary: Solitude was a comfort and, sometimes, a torture. It makes it so his only company is himself and his thoughts.Weeks after Mustafar, Obi-Wan Kenobi thinks of everyone he lost, on how every person he loved he never seemed to be allowed to keep.Inspired by the scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows with Harry and Hermione, you know the one.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	The Loss of Our Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling sad and remembered that one scene from HP which made me cry and then decided to write this emotional mess. Hope you like it! Btw english is not my first language so any mistakes are mine only! sorry in advance. 
> 
> I would recommend listening to the same song that played on the scene, O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.

It had only been a few weeks since Mustafar, but to him they felt as if it had just been yesterday when he saw those sickly yellow eyes looking at him and a burning face howling “ _I hate you_ " at him. The loss of his padawan, Padme's death, the purge, the lies and the secrets, everything still aches deeply inside him. But Obi-Wan Kenobi allows himself a moment to sit down and meditate on it, easily and without having to be aware of his surroundings now that he doesn’t have to sleep in caves or by the streets.

The first thing he thinks about is that he is alone. And lonely.

Solitude was a comfort and, sometimes, a torture. It makes it so his only company is himself and his thoughts. He tries hard to not let himself be consumed by his emotions every time he lets himself recall the nightmare that his life has become.

_There is no passion, there is serenity._

He has tried hard his whole life to control his emotions and on very few occasions has he allowed himself to get lost in them despite what the Code says. Maybe for the better, or the worse, those times had eventually ended in disaster for him. 

He thinks of everyone he lost, on how every person he loved he never seemed to be allowed to keep. He thinks of Satine. Ahsoka. Anakin. Qui-Gon. 

He loved them all with all he had and he lost them all the same. It seemed as if the Force just didn't think that his love was enough for them to stay. 

He thinks of Anakin, who turned to the dark side. He thinks of every mistake he made, every time he didn't listen, every time he should have been there for his padawan, for his brother, but instead hid behind the Jedi Code to not deal with it. He thinks of the failure he was to him and how the whole galaxy now would pay dearly for his mistakes. 

He thinks of Ahsoka, young and kinded spirited, a jedi at her very core against all odds. Talented and fierce, now most likely dead or lost. He hopes and pleads with the Force everyday that she is alive and well. He gets no answer.

He thinks of his beautiful Satine and the love that he was too much of a fool to not let bloom completely, too hung up on someone else already. He thinks about how she loved him all the same even when he left her just to come back and bring the battlefield to her planet. He thinks of her dying in his arms and wasting her last breath on letting him know she loved him to the very end. 

He thinks of how he has lost people to him being too late. 

He thinks of Qui-Gon and the nights he spent crying himself to sleep in his quarters when he died, blaming himself on being too slow and too late to save him. He thinks of the times he held his lightsaber against the very same spot in his own chest, thinking himself too much of a coward to turn the switch. He thinks of somehow a better time before that, of cold words said in front of the council, the humiliation he felt at seemingly being tossed aside. But most importantly, he remembers the apology from his master, the confession that left both their lips, the kiss and the touches that followed later that same day. He remembers the granted forgiveness, the relief and the feeling of a bond that was nothing like a master and padawan bond was. He dearly recalls the cyan brightness of it and the warmth it brought within him when his master was away. 

Sitting under the roof of his humble hut, he stares at nothing while a small smile tugs at his lips. He thinks of the happiness he felt those short weeks before the other shoe dropped and he got the first taste of what happens when Obi-Wan Kenobi lets himself _feel_. The smile died out rather quickly at the thought. 

That was a wound that had never quite healed. Sometimes he could still feel the phantom pain of a lover’s bond freshly broken in his mind and the rage that came just before. Sometimes he wonders if his eyes changed that day, while fighting Maul in Naboo. He can’t recall much of that day, just his master’s last words and the silent ones said over the dying bond when his voice didn’t work anymore. 

_“please, please, don’t leave me”_

_“i love you”_

_“no, no, no”_

_“Love you. Love you. Love you. Lov-”_

The howling of the wind outside caught his attention. It had gotten stronger over the last minutes, which could only mean a sandstorm was coming. Sighing, he wiped at his tears and rose momentarily to close windows and doors. 

Tattoine wasn’t a planet suited for a Jedi, but it was suitable enough for anyone who didn’t want to be found. Loneliness was a sacrifice for safety. But while sitting back down on an old chair he had managed to buy by playing sabacc (credits fairly won, mind you, since you can’t be Qui-Gon’s padawan and not know your fair share of gambling to win back whatever your master had managed to lose on a game) and the haunting notes of a song coming from the small device he had placed by his feet to fill the silence, he could easily feel the sadness and guilt suck away all his energy. He felt his eyelids grow heavy. 

Nonetheless it was the faint blue glow of a tall figure forming in front of him that slightly jolted him awake from his mindspace. He felt numb, skin feeling heavy in a permanent frown over his brow and thought that he was going crazy when the blue glow formed the face and body of his old master: kind face just like the last time he had seen him, the height difference now much less noticeable from his sitting position, blue eyes looking down behind a broken nose and barely kept beard he remembers fondly. It was him. 

_“I’ve finally lost it”_ mourned Obi-Wan mentally but didn’t complain out loud. 

Qui-Gon did not utter a word, just sent a glance towards the small device by the chair and stretched out a hand, a silent request. Obi-Wan took the hand, thinking that he would enjoy his hallucination while he could. The hand wasn’t as warm as he remembers but it felt solid enough to grip tightly. 

The ghost pulled him to his feet and kept doing it until they were standing in the middle of the room. Obi-Wan curled a brow up at his partner. Qui-Gon smiled gently at him and swayed in place. The younger jedi’s lip curled up in a tiny smile and swayed in tune with Qui-Gon’s rhythm. The slow music echoed in the hut. 

Once, now in what felt like a lifetime ago, Obi-Wan had been known as a great dance partner whom everyone requested at balls during the war. Now, while doing a poor imitation of ballroom dancing, he felt like his feet had heavy blocks of durasteel adhered to them. He didn’t feel like dancing, truly, but he would keep going as long as Qui-Gon kept looking at him in that tender way he used to do back when they were alone and Obi-Wan would feel like he was drunk in love. 

Qui-Gon had an imposing and intimidating frame to anyone who asked about him, which was why it inevitably pulled a chuckle from Obi-Wan when his old master had to bend down comically to fit under the redhead’s stretched arm in an attempt of a turn. His first true laugh since arriving on the sand planet. The ghost laughed with him and Obi-Wan’s chest tightened at the memory of better times when sometimes his mistakes as an apprentice would bring out full bellied laughter from his Master. He shook his head and chose to focus on the present. 

It was silly, this thing they were doing. He was much older than the last time they had seen each other and he must look ridiculous but here they were, staggering around with poor dance moves and turns that would push and pull Obi-Wan against his master’s chest or his back and give him that excited flurry in his belly like he was back being a forcedamned teenager with a huge crush on his master. If anyone by any chance would care to look into the new hermit in town’s place they would see a lone man apparently dancing with himself and an invisible partner. They would think he was crazy and leave him alone forever. But Obi-Wan couldn’t give two shits about what an imaginary person might think of him. Not when he found himself laughing and feeling truly happy ever since the war began and ended. Not when he felt himself being embraced by those strong arms he missed so much while they silently swayed. Qui-Gon nuzzled his now slightly longer coppery hair and Obi-Wan felt the telltale trembling of a face with eyes tightly shut against his own. It took him a few seconds then to finally realize he wasn’t hallucinating. 

“You’re real” were the first words spoken between them. 

“Yes, my love” the voice rumbled against his ear pressed on the ghost’s chest “You’re not alone anymore, Obi-Wan” 

The music started to die out as his eyes filled with tears and all the sorrow, pain and guilt he had been holding inside for too long finally was let out. Broken sobs made the ghost grip him tighter and soon those same arms gently helped him down to his knees when his legs failed him. Surrounded by the last person he had allowed himself to embrace his emotions with, he finally thought that Qui-Gon could be strong enough for the both of them, just this once. 

So Obi-Wan wailed loudly against his chest while his hands gripped tight fists on his ghostly blue robes, letting out decades worth of repressed feelings and loss. He clawed and tugged at his own hair in despair and shouted out every name that could come to his mind - Qui-Gon, Rex, Cody, Mace, Padme, Satine, Ahsoka, Anakin and many many more - as if saying them loud enough he could finally lay them to rest in his mind. Qui-Gon listened to every single one of them and let him cry silently against his shoulder some more when he was done, rubbing soothing circles on his back with one hand and the other holding both of the other’s hands to prevent him from hurting himself any further. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Obi-Wan” he vowed. 

And Obi-Wan, with his lighter chest and hope growing within him, chose to believe him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Kudos and comments are appreciated!


End file.
